A New Dawn
by binawitch01
Summary: (AU, OC-centric) After Alexandria and the Kingdom are destroyed, our survivors are left scattered by a vicious Savior attack. However, one group stumbles onto a new town. A new town that may be humanity's last hope. Welcome to Haven. In collaboration with kornderbrandon. On temporary hiatus!
1. Prologue

_A/N: Hello everyone! So glad you clicked on this story; it's definitely going to be a WILD ride! It's like nothing I've ever written before, so I'm excited to try out this new territory of AU. Just so you all know, this is NOT just my story. It's a collaboration with kornerbrandon. In fact, most of the story is his idea! He and I will be writing it together, so he deserved a lot of credit here._

 _Dislcaimer: We do not own any of the Walking Dead universe or any of its characters. We only own our storyline and the original characters we have created._

* * *

He stumbled through the woods, limping forward as fast as his legs could carry him. Behind him, he could see them closing. The roamers. They were getting closer, and the knife wound in his leg wasn't making things easier. Painfully, he turned around and fired the Sig-Sauer pistol he'd been carrying since the day he'd lost his cousin. Two rounds, well aimed. _Aim small, miss small,_ he reminded himself. The bullets smacked into the skulls of two roamers, but there were still dozens coming. He turned around and resumed his limping through the forest, trying to gain speed over his newfound obstacles.

* * *

A half hour later, they were still on his tail, and he was low on ammunition. He had maybe one magazine left; not nearly enough to deal with the dozens of undead barreling towards him. Panting, he slowed a moment. _Need to remember to save the last one,_ he thought morbidly. _Never_ , he thought, _I'll_ _ **never**_ _be one of them_.

His wounded left leg finally gave way, unable to hold under pressure any longer. He let out a cry of pain as his leg hit the ground; it was quickly becoming unbearable. He was out of bandages too; the blood was already seeping through his last one. Obviously the fall had reopened the wound and it was now bleeding badly.

He propped himself up against a tree and raised his gun, counting each bullet he fired. "18 . . . 17 . . . 16 . . . 15 . . . 14 . . . 13 . . . 12 . . ." This went on for a while, but couldn't last. He was already low on ammunition, and soon enough, he was down to his last two bullets. He fired once more, seeing another roamer fall.

 _Save the last one,_ he thought again. This was it; he was finished. He wasn't going to let himself turn; he didn't want to hurt anyone else more than he already had. At least he'd be with his parents and cousin.

He put the gun to his head, and started to pull the trigger.

Suddenly, he heard the rattling fire of what unmistakably was an assault rifle. Then another, and another. The bullets were smashing into the roamers' heads, taking them down faster than he could count. He turned his head slightly to see four men clad in military uniforms firing high-tech assault rifles at the roamers, with what was obviously a practiced technique. They were steadily moving forward, killing as they went, expertly placing bullets into the undeads' heads.

Soon, the soldiers slung their rifles and drew really, really long knives from their belts. _They're long enough to be swords,_ he thought, as the soldiers drew their pistols as well and closed in to fight the roamers hand-to-hand. They plowed through the undead with unerring discipline, even as the roamers bit into their sleeves (there was obviously kevlar sewn into the sleeves and legs of their uniforms), using their blades and guns in tandem, alternating between gunshots and knife thrusts to kill them.

Soon, more soldiers began to arrive, using the same technique of closing with precise bursts of fire from their assault rifles, before drawing their knives and pistols to fight up close. These men were trained, obviously. Either that, or they'd had a _lot_ of experience.

Soon enough, the pack of roamers was cleared; no more in his view. One of the soldiers, a man who looked about 40, approached him. He seemed to be the leader in this army group "Son, what's your name?" The soldier asked.

"Um . . . it's Mike, sir. Michael." Mike said from the ground. He was still shaken in awe at the team's power. He hadn't seen anything like that before.

"Well Michael, looks like we got here just in time. I'm Major Wells." The soldier introduced himself. "We're from a town just north of here. It's safe, secure, and with enough food and water for a lot of people. Unless you want to stay out here, you'd better come with us."

Mike weighed his options. While he didn't feel comfortable trusting a man he'd only just met, what did he have to lose? Not much; his food was all gone, his water was contaminated and he had a single bullet left. And with the precision Mike had just seen in action, if they wanted him dead he would already **be** dead. Mike nodded to the soldier above him, agreeing. At this moment, Wells noticed the bleeding wound on Mike's leg.

"Medic!" He called. Almost instantly, a soldier with a red cross emblazoned on his left arm approached them. He began treating Mike's leg, squeezing antiseptic powder onto it and replacing the bandage. Mike let out a hiss of protest at the sting of antiseptic, but tried to stay still as best as he could. He's been dying for medical treatment for who knows how long; he could withstand a little sting.

"It'll hold for now, but we need to get him back to the hospital." The medic noted. Wait, _hospital_? These guys must've had a pretty good setup to have a hospital.

Wells nodded and signaled for his men to start moving out, but not before two burly soldiers set Mike on a stretcher. After a decent trek through the woods and into barren streets, they were within sight of some tall stone walls that guarded the buildings within. Wells led the soldiers through the gate, into what seemed to be a thriving town. Mike could hear people, _actual people_ , chatting about. Some practicing with guns, others running and training. Others walked through the streets holding the hands of children. Mike pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. _Nope,_ he thought. _Not dreaming._ _ **Not**_ _dreaming_.

"Well Mike," began Wells, a grin set proudly on his face. "Welcome to Haven."


	2. Chapter 1: The Fall

_A/N: Hello readers! As you can tell by my awful updating schedule, I'm not really on fanfiction all that much, sadly. I used to be able to. But as a college student with six pets, volunteer work, a large family, it's difficult to write nowadays. And with trying to write four stories, I don't get much done. So I'm sorry to say that Kornerbrandon and I are going on a semi-hiatus from this. We will try to update as much as we can, but if I'm completely honest, I don't know how much that'll be. Hopefully in a month or two my schedule will work itself out and I can write more often, but for now it's not in the cards._

* * *

Sunlight poured through the blinds of the window, illuminating Rick and Michonne with morning light. Rick groaned and turned away from it, twisting so his face stared at Michonne's form. She's lucky, he thought. She's still one hundred percent asleep.

Or so he thought. A small grin spread across her face as Rick settled comfortably beside her. "Mornin', sunshine." She sleepily told him. She spread her arm out, resting it around him. He intertwined his fingers with hers, shimmying closer.

A gruff, "morning," responded. He brought his lips to her shoulder, pressing a kiss softly against her skin.

"I don't want to get up yet." Michonne lightly complained. "It's too damn early for anything."

Rick grinned. "You took the words right outta my mouth." His hand goes to lightly caress her shoulder, drawing small circles absentmindedly. "We don't need to move just yet. Rosita should still be on watch. I'm sure everything's fine. Alexandria can survive without us for another hour."

"Oh, an hour?" Michonne raised an eyebrow, a smirk slowly spreading across her features.

Rick winked at her. "Maybe two."

And with a chuckle, he raised his lips to hers.

* * *

Without the Saviors breathing down their neck at every turn, life in Alexandria had almost become… _normal_ again. The perimeter was never breached (safe from the occasional walker that stumbled a little too close to the wall,) no one came knocking at their doors, and supplies were kept in check. While the town was surprised to say the least, they were grateful for their current predicament.

"Anything new?" Rick called up the wall. Rosita had been stationed there for the night. She always preferred watch at night. Where she was alone, and it was silent, and no one bothered her. She needed the solitude now. It was the only way she could keep her damn head on straight nowadays.

"Nothing. Not even a single walker." She answered, quickly swinging her assault rifle to her back and climbing down the wall.

Once Rosita was at the bottom, Michonne added, "Good. I could get used to the peace and quiet."

"Who's on next?" Rosita asked the pair.

"I think Carl and Enid wanted the next watch." Rick answered. "I'll go grab 'em now."

With a curt nod to the ladies, Rick broke off from the group and headed to the pond in the middle of Alexandria, where it was known by pretty much everyone that the teens like to frequent. Carl and Enid would sit in the little gazebo and just relax, or hang out by the edge of the water and dip their feet into it. And, as Rick suspected, they were.

"Hey!" He hollered to the two. Carl and Enid quickly stood up from the water's edge, slipping on their shoes, and trekked over to Rick. "You guys are on first watch today."

They both gave quick nods to him before he continues. "Gabriel should relieve you in a few hours."

"Sounds good." Carl said. "Anything else we should know?"

"Don't think so." Rick said. "Just head on up. Michonne and Rosita are waiting for you two."

Rick quickly pulled Carl into a half-hug before letting his son pass by him. As Enid walked past, he gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder. She gave him almost a real smile.

Carl and Enid hike up the small path to what the Alexandrians consider the main road, Rick trailing a little ways behind them.

"You ever stop to think that maybe something's wrong?" Carl asked.

"What do you mean?" Enid replied.

"Well, the Saviors aren't hitting us constantly; you think they're gearing up for something?"

"You're just overthinking things. Maybe they realized they bit off more than they could chew." Enid replied as they reached their lookout post. They each grabbed guns resting against the wall, left from the previous lookouts.

It was boring, to say the least; they could be there for hours with nothing happening. That's how it's been for weeks now, maybe even a month. However, this time Carl spotted something through the trees.

"Walker." He said, indicating to the shambling twist of limbs and decaying flesh. Carl raised a rifle and fired once, the shot sending the walker to the ground.

"Got another." Enid noted, raising her own rifle and firing, again sending a walker tumbling into the dirt.

"More of them." Carl's voice raised, and he pointed at a small group of walkers. This was more action than the two of them had seen in a while, and their adrenaline spiked. _Why now?_ Carl thought. The two raised their rifles and fired, sending several walkers to the ground. Slowly, more small groups of the undead followed the sounds to the walls. The young couple kept shooting, but they didn't have infinite bullets. Enid pulled out a walkie-talkie that was used to stay in contact with Rick from the hiding spot in the post.

"Rick, we've got a lotta Walkers showing up here." She explained quickly as Carl kept firing at them.

"Okay. Hang tight, we're on our way." Rick said. What was only minutes felt like hours as the two waited before Rick and Michonne finally showed up. The four of them moved from the post to the front gate, shooting at the walkers through the open bars in an attempt to be quick and efficient. More Alexandrians followed suit, and soon it seemed like the entire town was fighting the walkers. Rick, he discovered, felt a swell of pride at how well they all aimed shots at the undead. And to think, at one point he didn't trust any of them so long ago. He was pulled out of his thoughts as the herd slowed to a stop.

Then came a car horn.

"Rick! You have been a pain in my ass from day one!" Negan bellowed out, standing on the back of a pickup, Lucille resting on his shoulder. He wore his signature smirk, his leather jacket, and a menacing gleam in his eyes.

"What do you want Negan?" Rick shouted back.

"You know what I want Rick!"

"Go to hell!" Maggie shouted, firing and narrowly missing Negan. He had ducked at the last second, just barely saving himself.

"Woo, she's a tough little cookie, that widow." Negan grinned to her. "I just wanna give you a little present Rick, seeing as how you have so thoroughly earned it." He continued, signaling for something behind him.

A car engine revved like music to Negan's ears, and soon and old Ford was barreling towards the gates. Rick peered at it closely, before his eyes widened in terror. _It wasn't stopping._

"They're gonna ram the gate. GET CLEAR! THEY'RE GONNA RAM THE GATE! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" He shouted. Some managed to get clear; most didn't. But this was no simple ramming attack.

The driver jumped out of the car and seconds later, the car collided with the gate, detonating a powerful explosive charge rigged to the cars engine and sending the gate splintering in a dozen different directions. The explosion had sent Carl and Enid flying to the left, away from his dad. Carl felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as he moved to stand up. He looked at it to see part of shrapnel had lodged itself in. _Goddamn it,_ he thought. With a shake he noticed it wasn't too deep, just enough to be a pain in the ass.

Soon, the second part of Negan's, "present," revealed itself. Somehow, he had managed to herd a truly massive group of walkers together, and without the gates, Alexandria had no means of stopping them. The walkers were roaming in the streets, tearing people apart in seconds without mercy or thought. Carl moved the rifle stock to his left shoulder; putting too much pressure on the right would not only hurt like hell but also make his shooting less accurate.

The Alexandria residents kept shooting, but there wasn't much they could do; the Saviors were now adding streams of gunfire to the walker invasion. Then, they faced a cruel choice; either wait in cover for a walker to grab them, or break from cover and risk being riddled with bullets.

Rick looked around hastily. Michonne at his right seemed shaken up but okay, as did Carl and Enid farther to the left. The walkers were everywhere, and the Saviors were mopping up whatever the undead didn't get. He could see that trying to hold the place any longer would result in a massacre. He raised his voice one last time.

"Scatter! Everyone, scatter! Head for the Kingdom! Go! Scatter now! _Move_!" He shouted, and began running and shooting as fast as he could. Enid heard the demand and put a hand on Carl's shoulder.

"Carl, we gotta go!"

"I'm not leaving my dad here!"

"He'll meet us at the Kingdom, you heard him. We leave or we die!" She shouted over the gunfire, trying to make Carl listen.

"No! I'm not running away while he's still here!" Carl insisted. He swung the rifle off his shoulder and made a last attempt at shooting the walkers, though with his injured shoulder he hardly had the strength to push the trigger or deal with the knockback. Carl wasn't going to move; he'd made that clear.

"I'm sorry, babe." Enid whispered to herself, before slamming the stock of her rifle into Carl's head. If she'd done it right, there'd be no permanent damage. _Probably_. His rifle swung onto his chest, and she quickly She grabbed him by his hands and started dragging him through a hole in the fence.

 _Goodbye, Alexandria_ _._


	3. Chapter 2: The Kingdom's Flames

_A/N: Hey everyone! Not dead! Hope you all like this chapter; kornerbrandon and I are really proud of this._

* * *

Carl finally woke up, groaning and clutching his head in pain. One hell of a headache throbbed through him as memories of the fall of Alexandria came flooding back. He tried to stand up, but found himself being pushed back to the ground, the hand small and firm on his side. He struggled harder, desperate to break from the person's grip.

"Carl, it's just me." he heard Enid say. He relaxed slightly before his hand fumbled for his Beretta. The cold metal of the pistol in the holster on his waist felt comforting in his hand. His lips pressed a kiss to Enid's cheek gently before lying back down.

"Where are we?" He asked.

"Heading to the Kingdom. I guess I underestimated how heavy you are; I had to drag you for miles before we were safe. I mean, after I knocked you out." She added sheepishly.

"I remember." The memory was painful. "I was being stubborn so you cold-cocked me with your rifle." He added, rubbing his head. The headache was still a dull throb. "Do we have any Tylenol?"

Enid smiled at him apologetically. "Sorry. We only have a couple of bandages and a tiny bit of antiseptic powder."

"Water?" He asked. She handed him a bottle of lukewarm water and he took a long drink, savoring the water trickling down his throat.

"So, what do we do now?" Enid asked. Carl realized that she was looking to him to keep them alive. Suddenly he felt like someone had dropped a huge weight on his shoulders; was Carl actually ready for something like that? He hoped so, he certainly wasn't going to be the one to let his girlfriend die. Racking his brain, Carl tried to think of something, anything, to get them to move. They couldn't be sitting ducks out in the open for the Saviors. Who knew where those assholes were?

"We head to the Kingdom. That's where my dad said for us to meet." Carl decided. His voice sounded more confident than he felt. "We can regroup with everyone there and figure out where to go from here." Enid nodded to the plan.

"So, what are we waiting for? We're wasting daylight." She said, packing her bag. Carl packed his stuff and they started moving. Both of them were cradling their assault rifles in their hands, pistols and knives strapped to their waists.

"Do we have any suppressors?" Carl asked. Enid shook her head.

"No. Like I said, we had to get out in a hurry. I don't particularly enjoy getting shot, tortured or eaten by walkers." She deadpanned. Carl laughed despite himself.

"Good thing I still have my baseball bat suppressor then."

"Yeah, that's good."

"We can't afford to waste ammo though. We use the knives as much as we can." Carl said. Enid nodded; that was understandable. They didn't have much ammo on them, and every bullet was precious.

After hours of walking, the two were finally coming up on the Kingdom. Perhaps they'd finally be able to get some rest before planning a counterattack. Maybe an actual meal instead of the dried stuff they'd been subsisting on.

Enid rushed ahead, picking up the pace. Carl likewise sped up to try and keep up with her. As he did so, he saw Enid standing shock still. Suddenly, she dropped her rifle and fell to her knees. Soon, Carl saw why.

It was the Kingdom.

 _And it was burning._

The buildings, the foliage surrounding, all lit up with the angry flames. The wall must've been hit fiercely; maybe the Saviors had set explosives around the edge. Pieces had begun to crumble to the ground, the once fortified safe zone a place of war. And it seems the Saviors have won this battle. Bodies of Kingdom warriors littered the ground. Many had bullet holes in their forehead. Some were shot multiple times until they had fallen; others were covered in blood, pieces of skin and limbs tattered from what Carl can only assume were explosions and blasts.

Carl was at a loss for words. He couldn't think, couldn't speak. The only thought in his mind, "My family. Where's my family?"

Enid broke him out of his thoughts by tugging on his arm. When she spoke to him, he could hear the anger and sadness battling through her, mixed from the sight before her. "We need to go inside! We need to find them."

"Who's them?" Carl questioned. She kept pulling, but Carl stood his ground. If they go inside, they might be walking into a trap.

"Our people. The King, Rick, Maggie. Anyone alive!" Enid pleaded. "Please, if there is ANYONE alive in there, we're their only hope. Carl, _please_."

With a thought, Carl nodded and pulled his arm out of her grip. Then he swung his rifle to his front and set the safety off. "We need to be careful about this. We see someone, we help them. They're too far off…" He held up his rifle a little higher, not saying the words, but ensuring Enid gets the idea. With a furrow of her brows she nods.

"We see any Saviors, we shoot on-sight. No ifs, ands, or buts about it." With each word, he gains confidence. Maybe he _can_ lead. The trait might just run in the family. "Then we get the hell outta here with whoever's alive. We go to the Hilltop next."

"Got it." Enid responds, pulling her own rifle forward. The two sprint to the front gate, pulling the dented metal open and gazing around.

Many were already dead. Others, dying. For some, the quick bullet or knife in the head was more humane than trying to help them get out alive. Enid was the first to put a survivor (if they could be called that,) to rest. Carl watched her hands shake the knife slightly as she did so. She understood that she had to; doesn't mean she liked it.

The two trekked further into the Kingdom's shambles, horrified by the sight. Some Saviors littered the group of the dead, but not enough for Carl and Enid to be happy.

"Carl…" Enid started softly, her eyes not wanting to believe the sight in front of her. The two had made it to a corner of the fence around the Kingdom, where a seemingly harsh firefight had broken out. Two bodies rested among empty guns and rubble.

Ezekiel. Shiva.

Carl was speechless at the sight. The two were side by side on the ground, covered in blood and bullet holes. Ezekiel lifeless form wore a smile, forever stuck bearing his teeth to the world. Eyes, while glassy and dim, were opened wide. Shiva, lying beside him, had a large paw outstretched to her master. The two died fighting together. It's clear and plain in front of Carl and Enid. They protected those they loved, and the land they ruled. _And they lost_ , in the two's eyes.

Carl looked away from the carnage in front of him. The Saviors hit them worse than he originally thought. _Shit_. No tiger, no king. No Kingdom.

"The head." He muttered out to his girlfriend. There weren't any bullet holes in their heads. "We need to get his… he _can't_ turn." It would be an insult to their memory.

"Yeah." She nodded fervently, a quiet sob escaping her mouth as she took her knife out from its sheath. Carl's heart broke for her, for Ezekiel, Shiva, for the Kingdom. And quickly, he thought of his father. While he and Enid haven't seen him since the fall of Alexandria, Carl still held out hope that Rick was still out there. He _had_ to be. The words flew by in his brain, _"What would dad do?"_

His father was strong, was a leader to all. Leaders would put other leaders to rest. Carl's stomach churned in knots at the thought, but he couldn't let it be Enid. It had to be him.

"I'll do it." Carl said softly, his hand reaching out to hers and pushing it down. His fingers curled around the hilt of it as her eyes looked up to his one, as if silently asking if he was sure he wanted to do it. With a slight nod from him, Enid let him take the knife.

Carl quietly gulped at the sight before him; two of the fiercest fighters he had known dead and gone. He could only wonder where Carol could be. He believed that Carol might have gotten away, maybe hurt but not dying, still fighting as she always did. She couldn't be gone. He couldn't believe it; he _wouldn't_.

Slowly, Carl made hesitant steps beside Ezekiel's empty form and knelt by his head. Carl's hand curled around the top of Ezekiel's head, pushing it a bit more to the left so it was looking straight at Shiva. And, in between two heartbeats, he slid the knife into the base of Ezekiel's skull.

It took a minute before Carl could stand again, but he did. He wiped the blood off of Enid's knife and handed it back to her with a grim frown. When he spoke again, he sounded about as good as he felt. "We need to check the houses. The armory. See what's left and who's left."

"The auditorium, too." Enid agreed.

He nodded to her. "Yeah, let's go."

Turns out the Saviors did a better picking than the two teens thought. With Ezekiel and Shiva down- along with most of the general Kingdom population- they were free to take whatever they wanted. The armory was completely empty; not a single bullet stayed behind. The houses were the exact same. No can of food or bottled water was left. Carl and Enid barely even had scraps with them. Only a couple of decent guns, not many bullets. Knives. They were screwed to say the least.

"Anything?" Enid asked as Carl's hands roamed on top of a cabinet level.

Carl shook his head, aggravated. "Nada."

Enid whispered a, "Dammit," under her breath as he shut the cabinet door with more force than necessary. "What do we do now?"

"We stick to the plan." Carl reasoned, more with himself than her. His anxiety was skyrocketing, along with his desperation to have _some good news_. This whole situation was worse than he thought. "Go through the auditorium. We take this one step at a time." One damn step is all he can think of at the moment.

Enid could hear the restlessness in his voice, and she didn't want to rattle him more than was needed. So she nodded to him, shouldering her gun as he turned back to the front door of the house they currently occupied.

It doesn't take long for the two to reach the auditorium's swinging doors. Both of them grabbed on to a door, looking at each other before Carl began to silently count.

 _One_. He mouthed to her. He pretended his heart wasn't thumping as quickly as it was. _Two. Three._

Carl and Enid swung the doors open with force, pointing their rifles out in front of them as they twisted back to back and surveyed their surroundings.

Nothing. No one.

Quietly, the two broke apart from each other and took a half of the auditorium, searching up and down the rows of seats for anything and anyone. Enid was about halfway through with her row when she noticed a small blob of blue popping out from behind the bend of a seat.

Cautiously, she let out a low whistle to gain Carl's attention. Immediately he turned to her and gave a quick couple of steps to meet her from across the room. As he reached her side she pointed to the blob underneath the seat, her eyes widening with the soft wiggle the blob made.

Carl walked over to it, his rifle pointed to beneath the seat. He rapidly made some calculations in his mind, and every bone in his body told him that no matter what, whoever is beneath the seat couldn't be more than ten years old.

"Out." Carl commanded to the blob. "Now."

The whimper that came from the person confirmed Carl's suspicions.

A small boy, with messy blonde wisps of hair and gray eyes shook as he slowly scooted out from underneath his hiding spot. The blue, Carl noted, was the child's shirt. "Please." The boy sobbed openly to the two. "Please don't kill me. _Please_."

Carl automatically set the rifle down and to the side as Enid ran to the child and threw her arms around him soothingly. "No, no." She whispered to him. "We wouldn't hurt you, I promise. We're from Alexandria. We're the good guys."

As soon as the word, "good guys," left her mouth, the boy threw his arms around Enid, hugging her tightly as he sobbed into her shoulder. She whispered, "You're safe now," into his hair so many times Carl couldn't count.

Carl gently placed a hand on the boy's shoulder as he knelt beside the two. "It's okay." Carl said. "You're okay." The kid nodded to him, and Carl gently asked, "Do you know if there's anyone else here? Anyone who hid like you from the bad guys?"

A small, pale finger pointed to the stage, past the King's, "throne," and to a big wooden circle, a prop from when the auditorium held plays. He stepped away from Carl and Enid and ran down to it, the teens quickly following behind him.

His small hand knocked on the edge of the circle five times, and to Carl and Enid's surprise, the wood lifted on their end.

Three children came out. Two girls, maybe seven or eight, with dark ebony skin and identical brown messy curls in pigtails. Carl could bet that they were twins, considering they were holding hands tightly and huddled up against each other. They also wore matching flower barrettes in their hair; one was green, the other red. The other child was a small, olive skinned girl of maybe five years old with brown tresses reaching a little passed her shoulders.

"They say they're the good guys." The blonde boy said slowly. The three looked to him, to the teens, and back again in slight fear.

 _Maybe a kid with a fucked up eye and a gun doesn't exactly bring a stellar image to them_. Carl winced at the thought, but as soon they deemed Carl and Enid worthy, they ran back to the blonde boy in a group hug.

"Are you all okay?" Carl asked the group. The fear still evident in their eyes told him: _No, no they weren't._

"They… They killed my daddy." The girl with brown hair let out a small sob. "He was all I had left."

"I'm sorry." Enid knelt to the little girl, her hands resting on the girl's shoulders as she gave a sad smile. "I know what that's like. Trust me."

"I miss him already." The girl's bottom lip trembled with every word. Carl's heart broke for the child. Who knows what these four have seen today? Did the girl only see her dad murdered, or has she seen the whole downfall of the Kingdom? Carl remembered having nightmares, almost every day at the beginning of the end of the world. He still has them now. Maybe not as frequently, but they happen.  
And now, if these kids weren't subject to them yet, they sure as hell were now.

"What are your names?" Enid said, still knelt in front of the little girl. "I'm Enid. This is Carl."

"I'm Anna." The little girl said, her sniffling slowly going away. She palmed at the tears from her eyes and cleaned her vision.

"I'm Jack." The blonde boy spoke up.

The two dark skinned girls shied away from the rest of the group, still uncertain of Carl and Enid. However, the one with the green barrette spoke up from the two of them. "I'm Sasha. This is Tanya."

"Okay, well Anna, Jack, Sasha, and Tanya, Carl and I are gonna keep you safe now, okay?" Enid spoke up from her spot on the ground. Her eyes gleamed at Carl before she raised an eyebrow. "What are we gonna do to keep them safe, Carl?" She asked. "I say we go to Hilltop. Try to regroup with everyone. Anyone left will be there. Maybe Carol made it over there." Carl shook his head.

"This was planned, Enid. They wouldn't hit Alexandria and the Kingdom and leave Hilltop untouched."

"How can you say that?!" She snapped. "We have to at least find out what happened there."

"Like I said, this was planned." Carl reasoned with Enid. "The longer we stay in this area, the shorter our life expectancy gets. First rule of war; build momentum. They hit all three places one after the other. They waited for survivors from Alexandria to get here, they wiped as many of the Kingdom out as they could in one go. I don't want us to take our chances again . . . And I can't risk losing anyone else I care about." He said, dropping his voice at the last part.

Enid drew in a breath to shout at him again. To tell him he was being stupid, that he wasn't considering anyone but them, that he was . . .

Then she stopped.

Everything he said had made sense. Instead of shouting, she let out one sentence that spoke volumes.

"Alright, lead the way then, Carl."


	4. Chapter 3: The Stranger

_A/N:_ **Hey guys, kornerbrandon here. Now, no doubt, we have all seen Carl's death on the show at this point, so no need for spoiler alerts.**

 **However, both binawitch and I are absolutely livid. Not just because Carl's death puts some massive holes in the overarching story, but because of the way Chandler Riggs, the actor who has portrayed Carl since the very first episode and basically grew up on the show, was treated. As far as we can tell, Carl was killed off because Chandler was about to turn 18, and Scott Gimple simply didn't want to pay him the full adult salary he would've been entitled to.**

 **Needless to say, this was a very, very shitty thing to do. Chandler has effectively grown up on the show, and has given his entire teenage life to it. To be treated in such a way is both angering and just dumb.**

 _Binawitch here! I definitely agree with kornerbrandon above. I was absolutely devastated when I saw that Carl was bit. Not only was Chandler a phenomenal actor on the show (that AMC never truly vitalized,) he was dedicated. He had signed another three-year contract at the beginning of season 7. Gimple said they wanted him on for much longer. He had also bought a house near the filming site of TWD, AND he took a gap year before starting college because he wanted his sole focus to be on the show. AMC, but ESPECIALLY Gimple, did not give Chandler the respect he deserved. They watched this damn kid grow up and this is how they repay him for eight years of service._

 **In any case, as I stated above, this also creates some major holes for the next story; The Whisperers, of which Carl plays a major role in, as well as almost entirely invalidating Rick's arc of rediscovering hope.**

 **What's worse is that Gimple has known for some time that Chandler would turn 18 one day, and it seems his lack of preparation for it has resulted in him killing off one of the show's major characters; need I say that is has been hinted that Rick may even die before Carl in the comics?**

 **Chandler was treated terribly; even though he had started renting a house near the set so he could go there in spite of doing college as well. AMC has likely burned any bridges they had with him and to be honest, I think Chandler will even become a better actor because of it, as he's not going to be typecast as the young brooder anymore.**

 **To sum up, Gimple's an asshole, Chandler's been forced out of a job he loved, and TWD has jumped the shark for good.**

 _Damn right!_

* * *

Mike stood at the front of the classroom, currently trying to educate the children of Haven in the finer points of the Cuban Missile Crisis. It was proving harder than he thought; most of the kids thought that Mike's lessons were a waste of time in the post-apocalyptic wasteland they found themselves living in. Mike sighed (probably for the fifteenth time this hour,) and rubbed his temples before taking the floor again.

"Okay, can someone tell me why President Kennedy kept the Crisis a secret at the beginning?" He asked. One boy shot up his hand immediately. "Yes, Evan."

Thankfully, Evan was one of the very few who found class interesting. He gave a legitimate answer instead of a whine. "He didn't want to panic anyone and keep things running smoothly, right?"

"Right. He wanted to keep things under control. Remember from our lessons on the Second World War? America had gained a sense of near-invincibility at the end of it; that we were the only thing standing in the way of Communist domination. That attitude bled into daily life; the isolationist attitude was gone, we were the leaders of the free world now; the big kid on the block, so to speak. What news of the Crisis had the potential to do was shatter that aura of invulnerability. Kennedy realized this, and wanted things to say the way they were so the nation keeps moving. When a population comes under fire, metaphorical or physical, the population tends to go into mass panic. That's why Kennedy wanted to keep a lid on the Crisis as long as possible. Questions?" A hand shot in the air with a shrug of disinterest. Mike had to keep from sighing aloud. "Yes, Carter?"

"Why do we have to learn this? How is this relevant when there's those creepy dead things outside trying to eat us alive?" The boy, Carter, asked. _Ah, 14 year olds. Think they know everything they need to,_ he thought.

Mike worked hard to keep himself restrained. Carter liked to complain at least once every class.

"Carter, until the dead started walking the Earth, the Cuban Missile Crisis was the closest we came to Armageddon. At least with those things out there, we have a chance to beat them. A nuclear war, on the other hand, would have resulted in mankind's extinction. To answer your question, we need to learn history so that when we beat those things, we don't repeat the same mistakes we made before. Those who don't learn from the past are condemned to repeat it."

With a deep breath, Mike looked over the class as a whole and stepped back to the front, throwing over his shoulder, "Remember, your assignments on the causes of the First World War are due tomorrow and if you don't pass it, then your final grades will take a hit. Class dismissed."

The students then picked up their notebooks and pencils as low chatter filled the room. Small steps filled Mike's ears as they started filing out of the room that and been co-opted as a classroom.

"I think you've got them coming around." He heard someone say. Mike turned around to see Sarah Crawford, the daughter of Haven's mayor, Robert, leaning against a wall behind him, her pistol strapped at her waist and smirk across her face.

"Eh, it's harder than it looks. I think most of the kids in this class are just annoyed that I'm only 5 years older than them. The class of 15 year olds is worse. Much worse." He laughed. "How's Karen's preschool doing?"

"Pretty good. Michelle has the kids aged 4 to 9, so not bad." Sarah gives a soft shrug, long black strands of hair falling out of place and covering an eye. "Gotta hand it to you Mike," her small hand points around the room as her eyes twinkle up at him, "Coming up with an entire school system within a few months of being here- I'm impressed."

He shrugged back at her, willing a blush not to visibly form on his cheeks. "Well, when you have nothing to do . . ." He trailed off. Sarah nodded in response. "Sarah, do you . . . maybe wanna do something tonight?"

"I'm going over to Kate's tonight, Mike. Sorry." She said, looking genuinely apologetic.

"Eh, no problem. See you round, Sarah." He said. Sarah nodded in his direction and stood up from the wall, leaving the room shortly after. _Eh, that wasn't too bad. You didn't make a fool of yourself this time._

As Mike was going through the papers on his desk, he came across that old photo again. Him and his cousin. He paused to marvel at how young they were in the photo. He'd been 11; she 8, and she had boundless energy. Always smiling and making people smile. In truth, the two had been more like brother and sister than cousins. He smiled sadly; in all likelihood, she was dead by now, and not one of those things. He liked to hope she was still alive though; it kept him going.

 _Enid, wherever you are, I will find you._

* * *

Living in the woods proved harder than Carl and Enid thought. No, not living. _Surviving_. There was a difference.

Food and water was scarce, always. Carl was infinitely glad that his dad taught him how to make bunny traps. They proved useful now, especially when he had the four kids _and_ Enid and himself to feed. He only wished they stumbled upon a deer, or maybe an untouched supermarket, or maybe Hershel himself descending from heaven to bestow upon them a heavenly seven-course meal.

Honestly, anything sounded good at this point.

Enid and Carl took the front of the group, walking with their handguns outstretched before them. This would be day ten with the kids. The only food in Carl's backpack was a can of peaches. He gave Sasha and Tanya, the twins, his last Big Cat bar to share. The group would wait till sundown to crack open their last bottle of water.

The dehydration and starvation was getting to him at this point. He was trying to be strong for Enid and the kids, and he was hoping his pain wouldn't show, but it _had_ to. He could feel his arms getting weak just by holding the gun up. But he couldn't put it down. Safety; they needed safety.

He was startled out of his thoughts as he felt a tug on his plaid jacket. Carl's eye looks down and finds Tanya by his side, a small chunk of Big Cat left in the wrapper in her hand.

"I want you to have it." Her quiet voice murmurs out.

His heart swelled at her, but he shook his head. "I'm fine, kiddo. You finish it."

"But I want you to eat it." She pressed again. "You need to eat, too. You're not Superman, you know."

He didn't want to take the food away from her, but in the ten days he knew the kid, he found he was useless to her big brown eyes. Just one puppy look from her and he was toast. Plus, she was right. He hadn't eaten in about four days.

So, Carl smiled to her and opened one palm, pulling the gun down from in front of him. "Thank you." He said earnestly.

"You're welcome." Tanya grinned up to him as he ate the last piece in one huge bite. The crinkle of the wrapper and the smell of the chocolate brought him back to almost two years ago. The image of him and Michonne trying to balance on the edge of train tracks, his father trailing ahead of them while they childishly fought for the Big Cat car. He warmed at that memory.

Then a red hot pain flung through him. He hadn't seen them in eleven days.

Without a second thought, he dropped the empty wrapper among the leaves and the spell of happiness was ruined. Tanya noticed the sudden change in his demeanor and slowly found her way back to Sasha, intertwining their fingers together as they walked side-by-side. Enid looked at her boyfriend curiously, but he shook his head. They'll talk about his potentially dead dad and kinda-sorta step mom at a later date.

Enid pulled out a small photo from the back pocket of her jeans, looking at it as warmly as Carl had with the Big Cat wrapper. It was his turn to look at her quizzically.

"You still haven't shown me what it's a picture of." Carl loosely commented.

Enid, after a quick thought, stepped a bit closer to him as she showcased the pocket-sized picture. It was from her cousin's eleventh birthday, and they were displaying wide smiles. The theme was Transformers, so the two stood in front of an Optimus Prime designed cake in the middle of the table. It was probably Enid's most prized memory of Mike.

But Carl couldn't see the sentiment in the moment. No, all he felt was the heartbreak of the Big Cat and thinking that dad and Michonne and Judith were dead.

"Why do you carry that thing anyway? It's useless." Carl said to her. _Yup_ , he thought to himself. _Still angry._

"It's not useless." Enid mumbled.

"It's just a picture. He's probably dead anyway-"

Enid snapped. "It's none of your damn business. It makes me happy to think of him. Don't say shit like that." She pushed the picture back into her pocket, and with a quick thought she added, "And quit sticking your nose in my personal stuff."

Carl could feel the sting of regret fill him. God, he could be such an asshole when he's angry. And it wasn't even Enid's fault. Just stupid nostalgia. The thought of apologizing immediately bubbles to the surface of his mind.

Then the sound of crunching leaves put Carl and his group at a full stop. _That wasn't them._

 _Who was that?!_

Carl brought a hand up, fingers outstretched, and quickly scrunched it four times. The signal for the kids to run and hide. Sasha, Tanya, Anna, and Jack all take off to the left, finding hiding spots.

" _A sloping hill to hide under, thick trees, even hiding_ _ **inside**_ _a tree trunk. Anywhere, okay?"_ Carl remembered telling them. _"If Enid and I don't come back to find you… Just run in the opposite direction. Don't look back. Don't try to be a hero and save us. Just_ _ **go**_ _."_

More than once has this happened, where Carl signaled for them to hide. They were kids—small and tiny and good at hiding—but most of the time it was just from a walker or a small herd. Carl and Enid could tell the difference between the dead trekking and the living. These steps were _definitely_ made by the living. This meant that Carl and Enid had to hide, too. _Away from the kids. Don't lead those innocent sweethearts to a slaughter._

The two teens opted for big enough trees to hide behind, more toward the right of the kids, in the opposite direction. Both have their guns pointed outward, and they share a look of fear. _Shit_. Carl hoped that the look on his face read, "Hey, I'm sorry I was a douche earlier about your cousin, I was wallowing in my own self-pity. If we and the kids make it through this, wanna kiss and make-up?"

 _So much to hope for in a look._

But then Carl almost cried tears of joy as he heard a loud _CRUNCH!_ from where he and his group were standing just moments ago. The Big Cat wrapper. _Thank god_.

The second that sound enters his and Enid's ears, they swiftly move to the other side of their respected trees, their guns pointed directly at the camouflage-covered chest of an older man. An older man with an _assault rifle. Fuck._

"Hands up." Carl immediately ordered, praying that his voice wouldn't waver. He was strong; he could do this. "Drop the weapon."

The army man, clad in a camouflage outfit and wearing a helmet, slowly brought the gun to the ground. With the same speed, he brought himself up, hands raised. "I don't want any trouble, kid."

"How many of you are out there?" Carl demanded. Enid stalked forward and kicked the gun away from the potential threat.

"How many of you are?" The man replied smoothly. Carl didn't answer.

He raised his eyebrow slightly, waiting for another response. When he received none, he raised his voice. " _How. Many?_ "

"5," the man finally answered. "We went off in separate directions. We go on runs in small teams all the time. Clean out this forest for the dead ones. They're too close to home for our town to feel comfortable." His words are slow and deliberate in the way he announces them. He wasn't lying beforehand; he didn't want any trouble.

"Do you two have one?" He questioned, looking between them. "A home?"

"Doesn't matter." Carl answered. "We aren't telling you shit."

With the rifle away from him, Enid takes it, setting her handgun back in its holster. This is better, _much_ better. With his eyes set on Enid, the stranger said, "We have supplies. Lots of 'em. Food, water, houses, medical supplies."

"We don't care." Carl abruptly interrupted. "We're gonna walk away now. You count to one full minute, out loud, looking the other way. If you stop, or we see you turn around, we shoot you. Got it?"

Enid shot Carl a disapproving look; they needed food and water. _Today_. She wasn't fond of the idea either, but they didn't have many options left at this point.

"You sure, kid?"

"Turn around."

With a silent sigh and arms still raised, the army man turned and waited a couple seconds before shouting out, "One, two, three…"

Carl and Enid immediately ran to the direction of the kids, with Carl giving off a high-pitched whistle signaling it was safe. The kids emerge from their hiding spots, mostly behind trees, and run to the teens.

"He said they have food!" Jack hurriedly whispered. "And water!"

"Just because he said it doesn't mean he was telling the truth." Carl reminded him. Though it seemed he was outnumbered. The kids all whined about being hungry, wanting water, and a bed.

"Twenty one, twenty two, twenty three…"

Carl looked helplessly to Enid to say something. They tended to listen to her if they didn't agree with him. He needed her help; they were running out of time.

"Carl," Enid said softly, her gaze on him, "We weren't lying."

She grabbed the collar of his denim jacket, pulling him closer so she could speak in his ear. "We're dehydrated. No food. Not even a full clip in our guns. We're out of options. If they _do_ kill us, at least it'll be quick."

"Thirty seven, thirty eight, thirty nine…"

She knew she didn't have enough time to expand on her thoughts—simplicity is key when there's a grown man audibly counting down the time to run. Carl's surprised at her, his one eye scrunching in confusion. But, he conceded. He's not winning this fight. So he nodded, and the group quietly walked back to the man as he finished counting.

The six of them are silent as he turned around, and he does his best to keep his surprise under lock. Instead, he let out a low whistle. "Wow, I didn't realize children could multiply." His eyes met Carl's one, and he smiled. "I'm Major Wells. Nice to meet you all."

Carl didn't have a response. Neither did Enid, or any of the kids. They may want supplies, but they are utterly terrified. No way in hell were they giving their names to an absolute stranger. "Where's the camp?"

"Maybe an hour's walk from here." Wells said. "And it's not a camp. It's a town." He leant into his radio. "Team, let's head home. Central, I'm calling in a recovery. Make sure we have the stuff ready."

* * *

A town is _right_. This place is huge, bigger than Alexandria. Hell, it's probably Alexandria and Hilltop combined.

It's dark when the group finally treks all the way to the town. All that is showcased are the huge stone walls around the town, tall and sturdy. The gate is metal, probably automated by someone on the inside instead of being pulled. _This place is a damn fortress_ , Carl thought.

His amazement must have been showing, as Wells clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, kids, welcome to Haven."


	5. Chapter 5: Home

For the first time in a while, Mike went to sleep happy with the way the day had turned out. All the kids, even Carter, had turned in their assignments on time, and they'd all done pretty well too. He'd had lunch with Sarah and her friend Kate, and generally spent the day after school being a normal teenager. It was a good friday; at least, they're considering it Friday. No school tomorrow so the kids can play around, Mike and the others included.

Unknown to him, Sarah had unlocked the door to his apartment. Wells had shown up with some new arrivals; kids, one of them with a bandage over one eye and wearing a sheriff's hat; she recognized it from some of the photos her dad had up in his office. She knew that Mike always came out to greet the new arrivals, especially with kids, and assumed this time wouldn't be any different. She quietly entered his bedroom.

"Mike? Mike?" She whispered softly. As she gently laid a hand on his shoulder, Mike snapped awake. In the blink of an eye, he'd pulled a knife from under his pillow and had the blade pressing at her throat.

"Shit! Sarah…" Mike breathed heavy, adrenaline still running through his veins. Instant regret flooded soon after. "Jesus, you gave me a damn heart attack." He set the knife down on his bedside table with a soft thunk and gently threw his sheets down.

"It's my fault, I should've known better." She said, eyes still wide, but she understood. "Reflex?"

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair, slowing his thoughts. "Something I picked up while I was on my own. It pays to be a light sleeper when there's no one watching your back."

"You know you don't have to worry about that anymore, Mike."

"I know, I know. Force of habit, I guess." He said. Sarah nodded.

"Wells and his team just got back with some new arrivals. I figured you'd like to come out and meet them." She said. Mike looked over at the analog clock he kept on the table. 9:47 PM. _Wouldn't hurt._

"Just give me a minute to get dressed." He said as Sarah excused herself and headed into the apartment's main room, a kitchen combined with a dining and living room. Mike walked out of his bedroom unexpectedly.

"Just looking for my shirt, Sarah." He said. She blushed and looked away. She'd been imagining Mike shirtless for a while, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't impressed by what she saw. Soon enough, Mike had found his shirt resting on the end of a chair and slipped it on.

"Let's go meet our newest residents." He gave her a goofy grin as the two walked out together. Soon enough, they were out of the apartment building and heading over to the main gate where Wells and the team he'd taken out had turned up with six kids, and Mike noticed that one of them, the one in the cowboy hat or whatever it was, seemed to be missing an eye.

Mike scanned over them, more out of habit than anything. He did it every time, hoping that one day he would catch Enid with a group, despite him knowing that it was borderline impossible. If she hadn't turned by now, hopefully she'd gone northwards or something. Walkers froze in cold weather, so he hoped she was there.

Just then, something caught his eye. _Is that... nah, that's impossible,_ he thought, looking straight at a girl who was talking with the boy in the hat. He did a double take, and called out, more from blind hope than anything. "Enid?" he said. The girl turned around. "Enid?" He said again.

"Michael?" She said, looking at him closely. After a few seconds studying each other, they ran towards one another, crushing each other in a hug when they joined. Mike thought she could have broken his ribs if she held any tighter, but goddamn it, he couldn't bring himself to care. "I thought you were dead." She said through choked sobs.

"I thought _you_ were dead." He replied, tears flowing freely as he hugged her just as tightly. "I am never letting you go again, Enid Reynolds."

"Same goes for you, Michael Holland." She said.

The two pulled away from each other at an arm's length, still holding on for dear life but giving themselves a chance to breathe. Carl smiled at the two. _Finally_ , he thought, s _ome good news._

Wells and his team pulled up behind the group, grinning at the newfound family reunion. "That is _something!_ " He planted a firm hand on Mike's shoulder once the two pulled away completely from each other. "Congrats, Mike."

Mike was so starstruck that he could barely say thanks to Wells. Enid looked the same as when they were kids, but completely different at the same time. Not as short; her hair was longer. Definitely dirtier. Her eyes did not hold a bright glow like they used to. There was still a glimmer, but it was much dimmer than before. But her smile, her _smile_ was the same.

"Do you-" Mike stammered. He twisted his head to look at Wells. "D'you mind if I take them to my apartment for the night? They look like they could use some food and a gallon of water."

"And a good night's sleep." Wells commented. He nodded briskly. "Of course. They just need to turn over their weapons for the night."

Carl opened his mouth to protest, but Wells held his hands up. "Just for the first night. Haven rules."

Mike nodded to the young group. "I did it, too. Don't worry guys, they're good here. I promise."

"Carl." Enid said softly, just the way she knew he would let go for the night. "Please."

He looked to her a moment, and he knew that he trusted her judgement. After all this time, seeing family again-Enid deserved it. So Carl nodded, and pulled his pistol out of its holster.

Some of the other soldiers crowding around went up to him and took the gun. He offered up his barely sharp knife the same time Enid held out hers, and the kids who trailed behind dropped their tiny, "weapons." Sasha and Tanya had heavyset rocks that they liked to carry on occasion and throw at walkers. The two picked the rocks out of their backpack and handed them to a soldier. The soldier grinned and thanked them. Jack had a plastic slingshot he carried, which he fished out of a back pocket and handed off dejectedly to another man in green.

"Be careful with it, please." Jack asked the soldier. It was his last gift from his mother before she sacrificed herself to the dead ones. He would use it to fling pebbles and other small items around, just to make noise and draw walkers away. Jack considered it a weapon, so he _had_ to give it up.

"I promise." The soldier responded, baffled but amused.

Anna hopped quickly over to Jack and the twins, taking Jack's hand as she saw Enid and Carl walking behind Michael and the other new girl. "C'mon, we're getting _food_!"

"Where are they gonna stay?" Sarah asked Mike, the pair trailing a step ahead of the newcomers.

"My apartment." Mike responded, as if the answer was obvious. "We have the pull-out couch, the recliner chair. We'll figure it out. I just…" He smiled-no, _beamed_ , back at Sarah. "She's alive. After all these years, my baby cousin is alive!"

She couldn't help but smile back to him. "It's great, Mike. I'm really happy for you."

"Who's this?" Enid popped up behind Mike, her hands resting on top of his shoulders as he walked behind him. Her eyes loomed over to Sarah, who gave a kind smile in return.

"Oh!" Mike exclaimed. "I never gave introductions. Enid, this is Sarah. Sarah, Enid." He quickly pointed in between the two of them. "Now, who's in your band of merry men?"

Enid quickly introduced her group. "Okay, we have Jack. Anna. Sasha and Tanya, the twins. And mister sheriff is Carl, my boyfriend." Carl gave an awkward half-wave to the pair.

And Mike couldn't help himself as he cracked, "Enid, sweetie, you remember. Family rules. No having boyfriends until you're 37."

"Mike-" she groaned in annoyance.

"Your mother said-"

"My mother-"

"Your mother wanted what's best for you. No boyfriends until you're 37."

"Mike, I love you but I swear to god I will punch you in the nose."

The cousins dissolved into laughter as Carl and Sarah stared at the two, dumbfounded.

Sarah leaned towards Carl, whispering, "I have never seen Mike like that, ever."

Carl shook his head, whispering back, "Me neither. Enid's very… stoic."

"Mike, too."

You get like that after being out there for so long, but their interaction just shows that, with the right people, with _family_ , all of that dissolves. At least for a few hours.

"I can take 'em from here, Sarah." Mike told his friend, pulling away from Enid. "They'll stay with me. I'll give 'em some of my rations tonight and we'll meet for breakfast in the main hall. That okay?"

She nodded to him. "Of course. See you in the morning." With a gentle wave of her slender fingers she pulled away from the rest of the group, turning to the direction of her apartment that she shared with her dad.

"She's pretty." Enid pointedly commented to Mike, a mischievous glint in her eye.  
"Shut up." Mike tried to hide the blush on his cheeks, turning away from his prying cousin's eyes. "I'll let you sleep out here, Enid."

"I'm terrified."

"You should be." He stuck his tongue out at her as the group finally reached the outside of his apartment. It was smaller than some others they've seen passing through Haven, seeing as there was only one person living in it, but to the kids it proudly stood like a palace. "Welcome, to La Castle de Holland."

It was small for the group as a whole, but they've been in smaller. They've slept in a damn broom closet, doggy piling for god's sake. Anything is better than that, and this is better than out there.

"I'm guessing we want some grub first, yeah?" He asked the group. The kids all excitedly nodded to him, and Carl and Enid offered half-hearted ones. Food sounded like heaven. "I'll admit, I don't have too much, but I'm sure we can scrounge up something for all of you."

The remnants of his dinner was in his small fridge; meatloaf and some mashed potatoes. A ton of asparagus and water chestnuts. Mike nuked that on a large plate while he handed out two hard boiled eggs for the teens to munch on. The kiddos get a small, single serving bag of pretty stale Cheetos, but it's enough to hold them over until the meatloaf is ready. Enid helped him pass out glasses of chilled water from a jug held in the fridge.

"You're wrong, mister!" Anna said as she sat on a stool at the dining room table. She was picking away at the mashed potatoes with a plastic fork, staring up to Mike with wonder. "This is a LOT of food! Thank you!"

"You are very welcome." Mike smiled kindly down to her. His heart dropped a bit; it's really not, but considering Enid's group has been out there for so goddamn long, he was sure this looked like a buffet. It did for him when he made his way through that gate. Snapping back to the present, he held up the half empty water jug. "More water, m'lady?"

"Yes, please!"

He took a seat next to Enid, Carl on the other side of her. Mike immediately noticed the two holding hands underneath the table. _Cute_ , he thought, _but if he tries anything I will not hesitate to slap him._

The thought left his mind as Enid beamed over to him, her smile bright. "So, what's your story?"

"Oh, you will not _believe_!-"

The two got lost in each other, trying to get the other up-to-date in their apocalyptic tales. Carl thought back to auctioneers on television, way back when. At the speed the two were talking, you would think they were on a timer.

"So, I was in this town called Alexandria-"

"I was stuck inside a hardware store for a week. I lived off of those dried MRE's-"

"Made it to Kentucky for a bit-"

Carl and the kids could barely keep up with the conversation going on. It was like Mike and Enid were speaking their own damn language. Carl's single eye bulged as it hopped between the two, both using erratic hand gestures to emphasize what they were saying.

"I once had to eat a skunk, Enid. A skunk!"

"Try having turtles; that's not fun."

"OH MY GOD, do you remember my pet turtle-"

"Michelangelo!" Enid laughed heartily. "Of course I remember. You named him after the single Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle that had MICHAEL in it!"

Carl eyed the two wearily, and he tentatively gave Enid's hand a soft squeeze to bring her back to the present. She jumped in her seat at the feeling, turning to look back to him. She could tell he was getting tired; the way he slumped in his chair, the soft blink of his eyelid as he looked to her. She quickly eyed the rest of the kids; oh, they were in the same boat as Carl. Ready for bed. It brought her back to the task at hand.

"While I love chatting with ya, Mike, I think it's time my band of merry men and I get some shut-eye. It's been a _long_ few weeks." Enid spoke for the group.

Mike nodded and stood from his chair. "Sure. Looks like you all could use a good night's rest."

"We'll help you set up the beds." Carl offered. "It's the least we can do for everything you gave us tonight. Thank you."

"Anytime, kid. Anytime." Mike responded, picking up the small mess the kiddos had made while eating dinner. "Extra blankets are in the closet. Top shelf." A beat passes before Mike decides to add, "And thank you for keeping Enid safe all this time."

Carl chuckled lightly as wandered over to the closet. He reached for the top shelf, grabbing some old, fluffy blankets in a heap. "Enid can take care of herself, trust me."

Enid smiled at the two interacting as she stood from her chair, and the kids followed her into the connected living room. "Damn right. But you do manage to keep me safe on occasion." She added the last part cheekily, her eyes gleaming over to him as he passed by with the blankets. "Now Mike, how do we open this?"

"Easy," he told her. As soon as he was done cleaning the plate, cups, and tossed out the plastic silverware he hopped over to the new group. With practiced ease he pulled out the couch and set it up with the blankets and some extra throw pillows. It wasn't much, seeing as how the four kids decided they _had_ to sleep together on there, but they seemed okay with being squished. Then again, Mike was sure they were squished too many times on their past-the-gate endeavors.

Then came the issue of the three teenagers. Mike had the recliner chair, and his queen-sized bed in his bedroom. He would've felt like an ass if he separated the young couple, so he offered to take the recliner.

"You guys can take my bedroom." He told Enid and Carl. "It's lumpy, but it's better than the floor."

"Mike," Enid protested. "You don't need to do that-"

"Just let me spoil my baby cousin, please?" He interrupted her. "C'mon, just for the night."

Enid knew Mike's way of thinking. If he made up his mind, there's no going back. So she sighed, resigned, but still she smiled up to him. "Fine. Thank you." She took a step close to him, pulling him down so she could plant a soft kiss onto his forehead. "For everything. I _really_ fuckin' missed you."

"I missed you, too." Mike responded, his arms unconsciously wrapping themselves around her small form in a tight hug. "I never wanna let you out of my sight. I hope you know that."

Enid chuckled to him as she let him go, and she took a small step back to the bedroom's door, where Carl was standing in front of. "Me neither, Michael. Me neither." She pivoted her foot in her spot, twisting herself so she could look at the door and her boyfriend. "But I would _really_ like to look at the back of my eyelids for a few hours."

"Hah." Mike gave a fake laugh as Enid walked up to the bedroom. One of her hands went to the doorknob; the other grasped at Carls' tightly.

"One more thing!" Mike raised his voice a fraction louder. Enid and Carl looked back to him curiously. "Leave the door open, okay? I know how teenagers react behind closed doors!"

Carl blushed as Enid rolled her eyes at him. "Seriously, Mike? That's the thought you'd like to leave us with as we go to bed?"

"Yes. Good night."

"Night."


	6. Chapter 6: Around Town

The next morning, Mike woke up with a skip in his step, as cliche as that sounds. For once, he was _happy;_ he had a wonderful reason to be. God forbid he didn't celebrate it.

He headed into the kitchen where Carl was already awake, reading one of the many comic books that Mike had stored in one of his cupboards.

"You're a comic fan?" Mike asked, pulling a cup out. Might as well make some conversation with the kid; he kept Enid safe for who knows how long.

"I used to read them all the time before . . . Everything happened. Spiderman mainly. Some X-men stuff." Carl shrugged.

"Me too. I preferred reading novels though." Mike replied. With ease he filled the cup with water and sipped at it slowly. He was running a bit low on his rations thanks to the _six_ new additions. He'd have to get more from the pantry later.

"That's why you have so many of them?"

"I was on my own for _years_ , literally. You know what that does to a person's brain? I found myself talking to imaginary people one day and decided that I needed something to retain my sanity. I started collecting books for downtime. Worked too. I mean, I didn't go insane, so I count that as a win." Mike explained. "Hey man, I just wanted to say... Thanks. You took care of Enid better than I could. Can't help but feel like I failed her somehow."

"Mike, you didn't fail her-"

"But I did!" Mike snapped. "She's my baby cousin, she's _my_ responsibility. Our parents drummed that into my head for _years_. And now, because I didn't find her, her parents are dead."

He sat down, resting his head in his hands. Mike remembered how kind his aunt and uncle were. The thought stuck in his head; sweet smiles, light teasing, hearty hugs when they visited on the weekends. Rationally, he knew that not _all_ of them could make it, but they didn't deserve that. No one did.

"I failed her. Her parents are dead. She shouldn't forgive me for that."

"I think you should let her decide that." Carl said firmly. In his heart he knew Enid already forgave Mike; there was nothing to forgive. He tried his best, and that's all anyone could ask for. "You did the best you could with the world falling apart. You're back with her. You're both _alive_. You should be grateful for that."

"You're… you're right." Mike replied, and sighed as he ruffled his hair. "Sorry, I just… have these crises of confidence at times."

"We all do." Carl shrugged it off easily. He knew he's been there more times than he could count. "Hell, I think I let people down all the time. But I've also learnt that you should let those people decide whether you have or not. Otherwise you drive yourself insane."

Mike smiled and thanked him before taking a small box of eggs out the fridge as Enid entered the room. Her hair was tousled from her wondrous, _more-than-two-hours_ sleep. It was the best nap she'd had in _months_.

"Hey jackass." Mike greeted.

"Hey asshole." Enid replied smoothly. Carl's eye shot between the two, bewildered.

He threw his hands in the air, gesturing between the two. "I'll never understand this relationship."

"Don't even try to." Mike said, the ghost of a smirk forming as he set up a pan to fry some eggs. He and Enid were _always_ like this.

"Michael and I used to insult each other all the time when we were kids. It's our way of showing _love and affection_." Enid explained, nasaling her voice at, "love and affection," for emphasis.

"You two seem closer than most siblings." Even he and Judith weren't that close, though there was a huge age gap between the pair. Well, that, and… _Stop thinking about her. It just makes things worse._

"We are." Mike replied smoothly. He cracked a couple eggs onto the sizzling pan, and stopped his ministrations to look back to his cousin. "Enid, you remember that time I tried making you a birthday cake?"

"Of course, you dork." Enid rolled her eyes, a smile of nostalgia gracing her face before she turned to Carl to explain. "It was my 7th birthday and Michael decided he was going to make a cake for me by himself. Long story short, it ended in tears for everyone involved."

Mike set a full plate of fried eggs on the table and handed out forks for the three to pick at. Enid took hers happily, grabbing a large bite.

"I've got time." Carl looked over to Mike, amused.

"No, you don't." Mike shook his head, chuckling to himself. No way did he want to remember the birthday cake _massacre_ that was Enid's seventh birthday. No one needed _that_ on their conscience.

He opted to change the subject. "Anyway, I was thinking of giving you guys and the kiddos the Official Haven Tour today. Show you around, amaze you, that sorta stuff. The power farm, training field, food storage, farms, et cetera."

"How are you still here? And where'd the resources come from?" Enid asked, taking another forkful of egg.

Mike began, "Well believe it or not, this town used to be called Greenville before the dead started walking. It was a farming community and there was a massive solar park just outside the main town. When I got here, I learned that they set up Greenville with heavy defences and everything. Turns out, a handful of people who came with Mayor Crawford were electricians, and they managed to get the power on. I swear, I'd forgotten just how much I missed running water."

Carl and Enid nodded in agreement. They'd learned not to take luxuries like running water and hot food for granted.

"I'm loving that I didn't need to wake up every few hours to swap shifts." Enid noted, looking to Carl. When it came down to just them and the kids, the pair were forced to take quick, two to three hour shifts _every_ night. Not having to switch for _eight_ hours was _heaven_.

"It's the first decent sleep I've had in a _long_ damn time." Carl agreed.

"Happy I could help." Mike smiled. "Those kids definitely needed it." He said, jerking his thumb at the living room where the kids were sleeping in. All four were still tuckered out; the twins were hugging tightly to each other in their sleep, and Anna had her head on Jack's shoulder. It was a sweet sight, something the older teens were hoping to see more of.

"Maybe they can get a chance to be actual kids here." Carl said, looking down to the,. One of the side effects about growing up in an apocalypse, he'd decided, was that kids had to grow up way too fast. He knew _he_ did. Maybe these four could have fun behind strong walls and military men.

"Don't worry, man. I managed to convince Mayor Crawford to put up a playground of sorts for kids. I run a small school as well, so there's that."

"You always were huge nerd Michael." Enid smirked, but rested her hand on his shoulder sweetly.

"Need to keep my mind sharp, E. I would've thought you would be trying to as well, considering you were what, 10 when this all started?" He smirked at her.

"Oh, shut up."

Mike looked out of a window before turning to them. "I'll show you guys around once the kids wake up, yeah?"

Enid and Carl looked at each other and nodded.

* * *

Mike, Carl, Enid and the kids left the building as Mike led them on the tour. "The walls are mostly brick and concrete, apart from the gates; they're steel. The town was actually fortified during the Revolutionary War, and again during the Civil War, and they kept it in good shape as the years passed. We just sorta... reinforced it."

"You have people guarding it, right?" Carl asked. The children looked up to the tall structure in awe. It was probably about the size of 20 Sasha's and Tanya's stacked.

"All the time. Every 20 yards along the wall, we have a guard with a rifle. No machine guns, though."

"Why not?" Enid asked.

"Total waste of ammo. You only need one bullet to put down a walker, so why use more?" Mike asked. They nodded in agreement, and Mike lead them to a large, heavily guarded shed. "This is the armory. We keep all the guns here and hand 'em out according to the mission; letting people walk around the town with assault rifles doesn't scream safe, so handguns only inside." He explained. Carl and Enid nodded, getting the silent message.

"Where do you get the power from?" Enid asked. She'd been dying to find out.

"Follow me, young padawan. I'll show you." He cheekily replied, earning an eye roll from her. Mike lead them to a section of the wall a couple paces down. "Who wants to climb up?"

Mike led the way up the ladder with Carl and Enid trailing behind him. They were used to getting on high walls; the kids weren't. There were two brave enough to try, and that was Jack and Anna. Sasha and Tanya opted to stay at the bottom and wait until their friends were back.

"Hey Sarah. Anything?" Mike asked his friend who was standing guard. The others pulled up from the ladder, the kids huffing at the unexpected exercise.

"All quiet today, Mike." She replied, smiling.

"Just out there." Mike pointed to a nearby fortified hill. "That's the power farm. Windmills and solar panels, and about 90% of the houses have solar panels on top. A lot of scientists and engineers lived here when I arrived, and they've been working on building a proper power grid. Means we don't have to ration our power as much, but people still try to save where they can."

He then turned everyone's attention inside the town. "We've converted a few of the town's old parks into farmland. Gives us enough food to get by, and we keep at least a third of all food harvested away for winter." he said, pointing at the makeshift granaries.

"Hang on, got a couple." Sarah said. Enid and Carl turned to see pair of walkers approaching the wall, and immediately went to grab at their waists where their guns normally rested. _Oh, right, no weapons on day one._

So instead they turned their attention to Sarah, waiting for her to pick up her rifle and shoot at the walkers beyond the wall. Both were surprised to see her pull out a walkie-talkie instead. "Tower 3, this is guard post 7. I have a couple of roamers heading my way."

" _Understood, post 7. Lining 'em up._ " Came the curt reply. " _Firing_."

The two walkers dropped to the ground, not so much as a whistle coming from a gun. "Woah!" Jack exclaimed. "What happened?" The kids, Carl and Enid all turned to Mike, waiting for an explanation.

"The guardtowers have snipers in them. Whenever one of our guards sees a walker, they radio the nearest tower, and the snipers in that tower will take 'em out with suppressed rifles. Very efficient."

"Where do you get all the bullets?" Carl asked.

"We have about a dozen workshops in the town that make them. The benefits of a gunsmith in the apocalypse are many. In fact, it's in those workshops that they make the shortswords we carry as well." Mike said, pointing to the sheathed blade hanging from his hip.

"Have you had any problems with other groups?" Enid asked. That was always the problem. The dead were easy to take care of; _people_ were the ones that ruined everything.

"Well, I've had a few. The town has had one big one. We call 'em Marauders. From what I've heard, when Haven started, a group of people were hoarding everything-trying to enforce survival of the fittest. Mayor Crawford didn't like that, and neither did the townspeople. So they were kicked out. They gathered themselves up, built their strength, and now they harass from time to time."

"How do you deal with them?"

"Raids." He said simply, though he'd rather not explain it in front of the kids. "We have scouts find their camps then we hit them. Works well, too; from what we can gather, they're so poorly organized that they can only launch small attacks that we easily deal with."

Another guard came up, relieving Sarah for the day. She turned to the group. "Mike, why don't you and your cousin talk up here for a bit? I'll show them everything else." Sarah offered.

"Do you mind?" Mike asked Carl.

"Not at all." Carl said. He quickly gave Enid a peck before he and the kids followed Sarah down from the wall.

"Michael… last I heard you were living in LA with your parents. What happened?" Enid asked. There was no walking around the past now. She had to know, and Mike had to talk about it.

He took a deep breath, and started. "Well, we thought we'd be safe. We had army bases. Fort Irwin and Fort Hunter Liggett, the Edwards Air Force Base, the navy at Oxnard and the marines at Camp Pendleton. We though military presence _that_ heavy would make a difference. We were _wrong_. Panic took over. The army and marines tried to clear the city. Didn't work. The navy mostly just cut and ran to somewhere in the Pacific. The air force tried to firebomb the city. That made shit worse. Then the bases got mobbed by survivors and the walkers weren't far behind. That was when my parents..."

He trailed off quietly, leaning against the walls edge. His eyes scanned the hillside. _Man_ , he thought. _I hadn't thought about that night in a while_. It still tore a hole through his heart.

"Michael, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault, Enid." He took another breath and forced himself to continue. "But that was when all hell broke loose. The army and marines shot anything that moved. I gathered what I could and all I could think about was finding you. So I headed east for Richmond, for _you_. It took me two years to get across the country to find a burnt-out, walker-infested town. Then I headed north, figuring you would have heard that walkers froze in cold weather. I was just past Philadelphia when I came across a group calling themselves the Whisperers. They…" He shivered at the thought of them. "They were fucking _crazy_ , Enid."

"How so?"

 _Where to start_? "They dressed themselves up in walker skins and made themselves like some pack of animals. Hell, their leader even called herself _Alpha_. I had the misfortune of being captured by them. There was a girl, Lydia… real cute but fucking creepy. Ironically, it was her who helped me escape. That's how I got this." He said, pulling his pant leg up to reveal the jagged scar on his leg. "And how I ended up at Haven. Look, Enid-" He said, before cutting himself off. There was the sound of the main gate opening.

He and Enid rushed down the ladder and to the gate, meeting with Carl, Sarah, and the kids in the middle.

It was another group of survivors. One of Wells' sergeants had found them while on patrol and brought them back. "Hey, we need a medic up here!" One of the soldiers called out. A medic quickly obliged, running up to one woman to treat her wounded shoulder.

 _Wait… is that who I think it is?_ Enid thought. Carl had the same thought, his blue eye staring had at one particular man towards the front of the group. The man who seemed to be leading them. He turned to face their own little group, and it became clear as day.

The scraggly beard.

The blue eyes that matched with Carl's perfectly.

The revolver in his holster.

"Rick?"


End file.
